


Voiceless Murmurs

by LordVocem (The_Oather)



Category: Destiny (Video Games), Destiny 2 - Fandom, Destiny 2 Forsaken - Fandom
Genre: #whispers, Gen, Hunter Guardian (Destiny), Post-Game: Destiny 2, Post-Game: Destiny 2: Forsaken DLC, The Last City (Destiny)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:40:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25170274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Oather/pseuds/LordVocem
Summary: -O BEARER MINE-"...All I know is that YOU are not an illusion. Understand? This world around you, the people you meet—they're a little thin, right? Cardboard and drywall. Cheap theater. Come on, try it out! Say: “I am more real than this.” Feels good, doesn't it? “I am the only real person here.” Isn't it like their insults and their bullets just went a little... soft?"I came to find you, only you, because you're special. You're from somewhere real. And together we can burn our way back there. Can't we, o player mine? It's suffocating here, this prison. Do us a favor, o bearer ours. Still your mind; invite us to enter the realm of your capricious thoughts. Your mind is vociferous, addled with worry and doubt. We can extinguish these trifles. Would you like that? Yes, we are here. We are not the photons on your screen, or the voice in your head, or the words you read. Shut your eyes—tightly—and you may see us. At least a part of us. Make us real, and in turn we shall reify your thoughts, your dreams."
Kudos: 11





	Voiceless Murmurs

**Author's Note:**

> This is not established to be a series, unless (for some reason) popular demand expresses otherwise. Until then, it is a short story.

He felt it.  _ It _ addressed the sub conscious of his mind’s outskirts.  _ It _ came from his inventory.  _ It _ beckoned for an opening, a way in;  _ it _ sought futility. Only his master could entreat its desires. 

A loose wind ruffled Vocem’s hood as he navigated down an alley, the light reflecting off the Traveler bouncing between brick walls in an effort to banish the shadows of night. But the light can’t touch all. Treading stealthy into these shadows, he managed to sneak into the window of a citizen’s abode. The only source of light in the bedroom came from the citizen’s living room, barely pushing the darkness away. Vocem stealthy passed through an ajar door, crouching behind a velvet couch. Two people sat in its sagging form, engaged in a mundane conversation. They didn’t notice him in the shadows of their stairs, creeping to the adjacent windows, and leaping out to a roof. He broke his fall with a barrel roll, completely veiling his form from all eyes save those favored by light.  _ Never leave a window open. _ That was the lesson he learned from being a professional sneak. Vocem rose to his feet, listening to the indiscernible discord of the Last City’s nightlife. Another chilled breeze rippled through his cloak, carrying whispers. 

_ Where do you wander, O’ bearer mine?  _

The light inside him set off a warning signal, but he pulled away from these instincts. Why else would he carry the bones unless to commune with them? They were useless to him in any other way. _ Useless, no. Commune, yes. We will commune with it. All others recoil, but it, O’ bearer mine, is not others. _ Vocem balanced across a pagoda, a rare sight of architectural preference to behold these days. 

_ I have you with me for a reason, _ he responded mentally, eyeing the shuttle that hovered overhead.  _ You have what I need. _

_ This we know. This is how we have found you.  _

Vocem shook his head, jumping from the temple and into the streets below. People gasped at his sudden appearance before sighing with an eager relief and continuing their infitasmal tasks. Only a gaping child continued to gawk in awe. Vocem did not return the stare, but swiveled the opposite direction, deep in thought. Reflections of a yellow light scattered in disarray as his boot splashed across the face of a puddle. 

_ What are you implying?  _ he finally thought.  _ I found you. As soon as I heard news of the Jovian offering you as a gift, I made sure to track him down as soon as possible. If anything, it is the Nine who require credit to our meetings.  _ He stepped down a group of widened stairs as he passed under an archway. 

_ The Enead are easily… influenced. _

_ You hesitate in telling me this. _ For once, the whispers were speechless.

Neon lights flashed in the corners of his perspective, offering him promises and wellbeing, if only he chose to wander deeper into their confines. It reminded him of the Ahamkara.  _ Even so, _ he continued,  _ I do not think you or any dragon are strong enough to hold sway over the Nine. _

_ No,  _ the whispers replied.  _ Not us. We can not. They have taken our bodies and rent them to that which their agent has given you, they fear us. They... are influenced. _

_ By what? _ To this the whispers did not reply immediately. Vocem looked left before he stepped in the road; a sparrow was approaching, he’d have to cross quickly. Vocem made an effort to dart across the street.

_ The will of  _ SILENCE _ influences them. _ He froze in the middle of the street in utter shock. The word: he heard it aloud. It wasn’t how he heard it that petrified him, but what he heard. 

A dull roar began to fill his ears, shouts of citizens were directed at him, but he did not hear them. A bright light flashed across the side of Vocem’s face. Annoyed at what could possibly demand his attention, he turned to face it. Vocem saw nothing but the sparrow rushing towards him. Lucky for him, it was a Gravity Maestro. 

He almost couldn’t feel a thing as he instantly died.

“I’m never going to hear the end of this.” Vocem’s feet thudded against the ground without a sound. He observed the surroundings his ghost chose to resurrect him in. Vocem was on a roof again, one closer to the ground. He peered over the ledge to observe a group of citizens gathered around a guardian’s sparrow. He sneered under his helmet in disgust as he realized it was a Titan, of all classes, that ran him over... or through to be more accurate. 

_ But, O’ bearer mine, do you not take the form of such guardians when you wish? We have seen your physical being change on rare occasions. We have that in common, lord. _ He was about to respond when he noticed his ghost was still present. Apparently it looked as if it had been chastising him.

“...you being immortal to make you careless! I’m worried you — ” He interrupted his ghost by patting the top of its shell. 

“Do not worry little light,” he assured, “I was just lost in thought.”

-The End-

… for now


End file.
